“It’s like the Picture and the Bust. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. Her little white hand stole across the table. We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. Burn your palette and your easel. " "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. Perhaps you will now explain the alarm. CHAPTER VIII.
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